Stepping Up in the Light and the Dark
by Fire Drastar
Summary: Chekov was excited to go on the away mission- until he was forced to participate in a ritualistic race. This is a story about how Chekov saves the day and protects his friends from both species that inhabit the planet.
1. The Light

**Stepping Up in the Light and Dark**

 **Chapter 1: The Light**

The day dawned scorching and bright. Chekov's curls were matted to his face with sweat shining on his brow. The planet had the appearance of an earth desert, arid and dry, with skeletal purple shrubs and coarse dark navy sand.

Chekov wiped his brow, squinting into the glare of the double suns, wondering again how he had gotten into this situation. He stood amongst the tall, willowy built natives, wearing of all things, his undershirt and track shorts.

Earlier that day, Sulu had flown the cramped shuttle from the Enterprise with Chekov and Captain Kirk inside to the meeting point. In their travels, Chekov had noticed that the planet was split in half: one side was fully illuminated and the other covered in shadow.

Sulu landed gently on the planet and the trio strode out into the blinding sun to meet the welcoming diplomatic party. When Chekov met the natives, he tried not to stare. Their dark eyes had an additional eyelid to keep the sand and grit out. The natives had dark skin and long thin legs built for speed and endurance.

He zoned out during much of the introduction, still unsure as to why he was here. Maybe it was just to get field experience planetside.

He snapped back to attention when he heard Captain Kirk mention his name, and refocusing on the conversation, noticed that Captain Kirk was gesturing in his direction.

"Ensign Chekov is a prime example of a high-caliber human long-distance runner. He has won multiple accolades."

The leader stared down at Captain Kirk, whose head barely came up to the creature's chest.

"This youngling is nothing. That is not a runner, that is a roadblock. You dare insult us with poor excuse for a warrior?"

Captain Kirk, his face hardening "Chekov has the skill to beat any of your warriors."

Standing to its full height, the leader let out a shrieking cry.

"All who are here are witness. The Earthling Leader has submitted one of his own for the contest. Prepare for the trial to begin in one hour. Then we shall see who the worthier warrior is, your unproven youngling or star of our tribe, my son."

With that he strode off towards his fellows who gathered around whispering.

"Wait, what?" Chekov spluttered, "Captain, what did you just do?"

Captain glanced back at him sheepishly "Well…."

"What your foolish leader has done youngling, has presented you like a prize mount at the traveling fair. He has boosted of your prowess and now you will race." A wrinkled native, stooped with age, approached the trio.

Chekov looked to his Captain in askance.

Kirk rubbed his head sheepishly. "The natives here are a proud folk that have established a hierarchy based on those with great endurance. In order for them to take our delegation seriously, I brought you as an example of human skill. And then, well, I don't really know what happened after that."

The aged native spoke again "You claimed that this youngling is better than our warriors. This challenge must be met in the traditional way. The youngling will run the course through the desert and achieve victory for honor."

Sulu glanced worriedly at Chekov, who felt his face blanch.

The aged native strode rapidly in the direction of the shuttle, with Kirk scrambling after him. "I hear you have made a picture of the area. Bring me to it and I will show you the course."

Chekov sat abruptly on the ground before his knees gave out. Sulu sat gracefully next to him and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Um, not to make this worse, but achieving victory is a much bigger deal than he made it seem. If you lose, we lose. The Federation will be shunned as undesirable and all negotiations will be called to a standstill."

Captain Kirk and the elderly native strode towards the pair brandishing the map. "Pay attention youngster. The path will take you straight across the desert until you hit the ridge, then follow the ridge to the hot lake. There you will have to go around and make your way back to the starting line. Mostly importantly do not get lost and do not stray into the dark side of the planet. You will be running close to the edge, and the beings that live in the darkness are not ones that you would want to meet. Anything goes in this battle. Best wishes youngling." With that he strode off to join the crowd forming.

Captain Kirk approached Chekov with his hands fluttering "Well, now you know the course, all that's left is that you go out and win!"

Sulu rolled his eyes scornfully. "And how to expect him to do that? You don't even know how fast they can run!"

"Sulu, that's not what matters," Kirk said, "what matters is that Chekov can do this. He is a member of Starfleet and part of my crew! He can definitely win today. You should probably like stretch or something now, you start soon."

Chekov threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Yes, Keptin, I will be sure to stretch or something before I destroy the reputation of the Federation. Do I get put to death if I lose as well?"

Kirk laughed nervously and grabbed Sulu by the arm, hauling him off the ground. "Well, we'll leave you to it then."

As he was pulled away, Sulu locked eyes with Chekov. "Good Luck."

Chekov was left alone with his thoughts under the scorching hot sun. Almost mindlessly he began to strip down to a comfortable layer to run in, and in doing so removed all insignias and badges that revealed him to be an Ensign in the Federation. Studying his opponent, he reflected on the simplicity of the situation now: forget politics, forget the Captain, and forget all the pressure placed on him by the Federation. He was here to run, to be free.

Running was something that Chekov loved to do: his mind would quiet and he would be a peace. At first he started to run to get away from his problems: from the ridicule and judgement of being so young and so intelligent. Then he honed it, as he did his other talents, and became a marathon runner. The competitions helped him through his life at the Academy. It was nice in a way that the Captain noticed that Chekov was the best runner on the ship, but had he known that the day would turn out like this he would have had second thoughts about getting out of bed.

No! That was no way for him to think! It was just another race, another time to be free in the sun, to see how far he could push himself.

He began his series of stretches, occasionally glancing over at his opponent, the leader's son. In his eye, he seemed the tallest and leanest of them all. His skin was withered by the amount of time he spent in the sun.

All too soon, it was time for the contest to begin. The beginning rituals that the natives performed where a blur to him because he was focused on not being nervous.

He glanced up up up to his opponent's face, feeling very small. His opponent just gazed down, a smirk on his face. Suddenly, the group gave out an earsplitting shriek. Chekov threw up his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a small shove to his lower back.

Startled he opened his eyes, his ears ringing, to see that his opponent was already far into the distance. The shrill cry had signaled the start of the race!

With a brisk shake of his head, Chekov started out at a trot, not wanting to use up all his energy early. No one had told him the distance of the race, but it gave all the indications that it would be a long one. His main goal for now was to keep his opponent in eyesight.

There was so many things to distract him from not doing well: the dryness of the air, the sweat beading on his body, the ungodly heat, and the gritty sand getting into his shoes as well as the fact it looked as though there was no way he could win.

Time began to blur together and Chekov continued to run, keeping his opponent within his eyesight. All of a sudden, the rocky ridge loomed before him, and he turned left, settling into a rhythm now. All previous nuisances dropped away. He focused on the in and out of his breaths and the slap of his feet. He had achieved his runner's high.

His opponent was the barest speck in the distance when he heard a vicious snarl to his right. It startled him out of his rhythm. Looking right, he realized that there was a break in the ridge which separated the light side of the planet from the dark. The flat plains were gone and broken up by lumps (trees? rocks?). Chekov thought that he saw something move in the darkness, and the violent noises grew ever louder.

His heart thumping in his chest, he ran.

He ran as fast as he could, neglecting to pace himself and burned through a lot of his reserves of energy.

He ran until his knees gave out beneath him and he landed hard on the navy sand.

The smell of sulfur stung his nose and he glanced up. The first thing that he noticed was that through his blind rush he had actually made up ground on his opponent. The next thing he noticed was the aptly named hot lake. The closest Earth equivalent was lava. Here this yellow river glowed and spat fiery globs onto the surroundings. He could feel the heat emanating from the lake.

Shaking his head, he turned to follow his opponent and then paused. He would never catch up with his opponent at this rate. Even though all the odds were against him, Chekov still believed that there was a way for him to win. He was a genius! Mostly though, he did not want to let his friends down. Glancing back at the lake, he noticed a thin outcropping that seemed to stretch all the way across the hot mass.

The elder did say that anything went in this race. Chekov had no doubt that if he was actually running alongside his opponent there would be no shortage of dirty tricks. He just hoped that nothing would happen to him as he crossed the lake, like oh you know, being burned alive.

With that cheerful thought, he tested the rocky outcropping, slowly at first and then he began to pick up speed as he gained more faith that it would not simply sink into the lava. He learned to duck when he heard the hissing noise that indicated that a plume of the stuff would come exploding out. Every inch of him was quivering, ensuring that he did not get struck, sure that the tiniest fleck would cause unbearable pain.

As he crossed to the other side of the hot lake (narrowly dodging death once again with a neat side roll, thank you very much), his opponent was nowhere to be seen.

Thinking that he had already lost, Chekov began to run quicker. He may have lost, but he was going to ensure that the gap was as small as possible.

His legs were started to quiver and the shapes of the desert began to blur, indicating that he was close to his limit.

All of a sudden, the he saw the yellow shirts of his friends stand out against the navy blue sand, the natives blending in as a moving knot. He was almost done and then he could rest.

One pair of yellow arms started pinwheeling wildly, and then the shouts reached his ears. "RUN Chekov RUN! He's right behind you!"

Disbelieving, he glanced behind him, and there, rapidly approaching, was a small speck in the distance. His run across the hot lake was actually a shortcut! With a start, he realized that he might actually be able to win.

Chekov poured every last bit of energy he had into the run. His arms were swinging, his legs churning, and his breath came in wheezy gasps as the knot of people grew ever closer.

Now he could hear everything: cheers of Sulu and Kirk, the mutters of the natives, and the rapid footsteps of his opponent striving to make up lost ground.

200 yards, then 100.

He could feel the presence of his opponent at his back, breathing down his neck.

Somehow he managed to keep pace in front of his opponent. The last few feet, he poured everything into his final strides, throwing himself into a lunging leap that turned into a stumbling fall in the midst of the crowd.

His head spinning, he wasn't sure if he won. Did he manage to stay in front?

Then there were hands grabbing him, pulling him up, and slapping the dust off. His hearing returned with a vengeance as his friends screamed that he had won!

Chekov saw the natives approaching, and with a weak poke to the side, signaled his captain of their presence. Straightening, decorum and diplomacy erased all the mirth and glee on Kirk's face as he went to talk with them.

Sulu leaned in close, helping Chekov stand upright. "That was amazing, what you did! I heard them say he was undefeated, and you beat him! We're, I'm so proud of you!"

Still chortling over Chekov's victory, Captain Kirk ushered them on the waiting shuttle. As the shuttle took off, Chekov let out a whoop of victory. He had done it, done the impossible!

Sulu set a course to return to the Enterprise.

"Good work today gentleman," said Captain Kirk, "we have earned the Federation a new ally and we also kicked some alien booty!"

Chekov smiled slightly in response, his body drooping in exhaustion. He leaned back and within moments fell asleep in his chair.

He woke to the sensation of falling and then he landed with a thump on the shuttle floor, sirens screaming around him. Disoriented and confused, he glanced out the window and saw that the shuttle had passed into the dark half of the planet.

He also noticed that the shuttle was careening through the air with sharp, jerking movements, heading steadily for the ground.

With a crashing, a skidding thump, the shuttle plowed into the ground.

"Sorry!" Sulu's voice yelled from somewhere. "I'm not sure what happened."

As the trio exited the shuttle to assess the damage, Chekov shivered. He remembered the creatures he had seen in the darkness, and now he was on their side of the ridge.


	2. The Dark

**Chapter 2: The Dark**

Why was it so dark?

This thought distracted his whirling mind for a second. The darkness was solid and unforgiving before his eyes as he ran. One two, one two, his legs beat against the ground. The noise of his slapping feet and panting audible to his ears. This was not the smooth performance from earlier that day. Several times he had to catch himself before he stumbled to the ground.

He tripped quite impressively over a protruding rock, and then righted himself. Darting through a door to a small room, he slumped against a wall. Momentarily stilling his heaving chest, he listened. There was no sound of his pursuers following.

His mind pulled itself back to his earlier query. Ah yes, the darkness would be because he had cut the main power supply to the light grid that ran through the tunnels.

Chekov shook his head briskly. Now was not the time to be forgetting little details. Lives hung in the balance.

Soberly he recalled Captain Kirk, slumped across the ground, blood trickling from a gash in his scalp. His Captain had jumped headlong into a trio of assailants, trying to give Chekov time to escape. His brave, foolhardy Captain had been knocked unconscious effortlessly from a lightning strike from one those heavy clubs.

These assailants were the ones the aged native had warned him about. They were stocky and solid, unlike the tall and lithe inhabitants on the light side. They had scaly skin and were made to live in the dark. They had emerged from a cave opening when the Chekov, Sulu, and Kirk tried to figure out why the shuttle had crashed.

Even though these creatures lived so long in the dark their eyes had not adapted, so they relied primarily own their sense of smell and their internal sense of direction to navigate.

Sulu had lasted a bit longer in the fight than the Captain, parrying strikes with his fencing swords, the lightning fast strikes difficult for the creatures to follow with their poor eyesight. He had called out to Chekov to run.

Luckily they could not run as fast as the desert natives of the planet so he was able to dodge them down the tunnels and lose his pursuers.

Now he was the only one not captured. It was up to him to save everyone. He briefly cursed in Russian. The universe could not give him a break today could it? First the race where he risked blacklisting the Federation and losing his job, and now imprisonment, injury and possible death.

Chekov swallowed around the lump in his throat. He felt helpless, just like when he watched the dot representing Spock's mother drop from view on the transporter screen.

The only useful thing he had done so far was rip apart the cables lines leading to the main generator, making it harder for him to found.

He thought he heard a noise off in the distance down the corridor. He gripped his phaser tighter, his breathing sharply increasing. Every muscle in his body was on a hair-trigger- ready to fight… or flee. Agonizingly slow seconds passed as the noise faded into the distance.

He looked down at his phaser. He had the urge to chuck it against the opposing wall. It was this device's fault that his friends were captured. The beams from the phaser just bounced off the armory hides of their assailants. Chekov was not made for battle against opponents so much stronger than himself, and what's more he was exhausted from the marathon.

And now he was alone.

The comms were down. Scotty, Spock, and the rest of the Enterprise had no idea what was happening. They thought the trio were still meeting with the desert natives and would not be expecting them back until the next day. And who knows what state he, Sulu, and Kirk would be in by then.

He stared morosely down at the phaser in his hand. Then he got an idea. Maybe he could save everyone. It would require him to be stealthy and outsmart the enemy. Well, he had already taken a big risk today, what was one more?

He quickly got to work, exposing the inner wiring on the phaser and opening a control access panel in the wall. His fingers began the merry dance of teasing the small parts together, fusing the pieces to perform a function that the manufacturers had never intended. He would not be able to test it experimentally, so a field test in the moment would have to do.

He grabbed the flashlight that was hanging around his belt and manipulated it until the intensity of the light was at the highest setting.

His final touches before he left were to rip three swaths of fabric off of his uniform, tying one around his mouth and nose leaving the other two tucked in his belt for later.

Checking that all of his modifications were set, Chekov tucked the phaser and other metal pieces into his belt and threw open the door.

A creature stood, waiting for him.

* * *

Luckily, Chekov was not handcuffed as he was marched down twisting hallways. The creatures seemed unimpressed by his small size and lack of musculature. They also did not search him, just had grabbed him by the arms and marched him off.

Chekov reviewed his plan one more time. There were plenty of holes, but nothing could really be done about it.

Turning a corner, he saw Kirk and Sulu in a rocky cavern along the wall with a set of metal bars shut across the front.

The scaly creatures thrust him inside and locked the bars behind him, then strode off to the mouth of the tunnel.

Sulu rushed to Chekov, looking him over for injuries. The Captain just raised a lazy hand in greeting, the other gripping his undershirt against the bloody knot on his head.

"Nice of you to join the party!"

"Keptin, this is not a party. Your idea of fun is very skewed," Chekov said.

"Aw, you sound just like Bonesy", Kirk drawled. Sombering, "Speaking of Bonesy, he's going to burst a blood vessel when we don't get back in time."

"Not to worry Keptin, I have plan." Chekov drew the metal pieces from his belt and thrust the lockpicks into Kirk's hands. "Just follow me."

Kirk, courtesy of his wayward youth (and adulthood) had the lock open in a jiffy.

Grasping two heavy rocks, Sulu knocked the sentries over the head. "Now what?"

Holding out his hand, Chekov said "Now we _very carefully_ walk out of here."

In his hand was a comm with a red light blinking.

"You got the comms to work. Nice!" Kirk whispered excitedly.

"Not quite," replied Chekov. "A comm has a locator chip imbedded in it. Theoretically you can use any comm to locate another one, even if the person holding it cannot reply. I set up this comm to locate the one stored in the supply locker on the shuttle. The more rapidly the red light blinks, the closer we are."

With that, the trio set off, creeping slowly in the darkness, Chekov leading as point. Every so often they would come across another creature, and Chekov would disorient them with the bright beam of the flashlight.

Just as Chekov was wishing that this adventure was nearly over for the dozenth time, the mouth of the cave appeared. A cool wind blew as, similar to meerkats, their heads popped up over the lip of the cave. A dozen or so creatures surrounded their shuttle.

From their vantage point, they noticed that the shuttle was ensnared in a glowing green net, made of some plant-like material. They had obviously set off a booby trap as they flew over.

"Ok, we need to get them away from the shuttle so we can open the doors. What are the stock of the weapons we have?" Kirk asked.

"We don't need to be so hasty Keptin. Cover up your mouth and nose, and whatever you do, try not to breathe in. You have to clear the net away once Sulu cuts it off with his swords." Chekov said.

"What?" Sulu and Kirk looked at Chekov in confusion.

"I can take them all down, disorient them for a few minutes, but I need you and Sulu to focus on cutting away the net so we can escape as quickly as possible." Chekov explained.

Sulu and Kirk glanced at each other with uncertainty on their faces, not entirely sure his plan would work.

"Trust me on this, if my way doesn't work, you both will have the opportunity to try to beat them with your bare hands, which was essentially your plan anyway."

With that resounding logic, Chekov took a deep breath and charged over the ridge, his phaser pointed at the target.

"Hands up!"

The creatures chortled, approaching Chekov with their faces twisted in amusement.

"Uh, Chekov," Kirk said, "we tried that already."

"Not to worry Keptin." And with that response Chekov pulled the trigger, releasing the most unholy stench from the barrel of the gun.

He had essentially created a powerful stink bomb, which to the sensitive noses of the creatures was pure agony. Imagine being stuck in a sauna for twelve hours with an open container of rotten eggs and meat: the stench was worse than that.

They fell to the ground writhing and twisting.

Sulu ran to the glowing net and sliced at it with his sword while Kirk looked on in shock.

"What? How?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

As one creature began to stir, Chekov pointed his stinkbomb phaser in its direction as he released another shot.

"I'll explain it to you later Keptin, now focus" Chekov yelled in exasperation.

Kirk and Sulu struggled to pull the net off every inch of the shuttle as Chekov slowly backed towards it, trying to keep every creature in eyesight and stay out of the way of their twitching limbs.

With a final heave, all the foliage was cleared just as Chekov's modified phaser jammed.

As the creatures were stirring, readying themselves to attack, our heroic trio jumped aboard the shuttle. Sulu and Kirk rushed to the controls as Chekov slumped into a seat. He quickly plotted a course back to the Enterprise that would avoid the dark side of the planet as Sulu launched the shuttle into a roaring takeoff.

"You did good today, better than I could ever have imagined" Kirk said, slapping Chekov on the shoulder. Chekov hummed in response to the praise as his eyes slowly drifted shut.

He deserved some shut-eye after running a marathon through the desert, saving the Federation's diplomatic negotiations, being taken hostage, and saving his friends. He hoped that the next away mission would be a little bit more relaxed.


End file.
